Lovers of good eating call French sauces the gift that la cuisine française has given the world. As Frank Crowninshield once said, “In the eyes of the world at large it is a matter of less importance that France adopted the Code Napoléon in her judicial procedure than that she adopted a touch of vinegar and burnt butter in cooking an egg. We Americans are mildly interested, of course, in reading about the discovery of radium by Madame Curie, but what we really yearn to know is the name of the uncommemorated French female who first mixed a sauce béarnaise.”
No one, I'm sure, will deny that skill in French cooking, either professional or amateur, means knowing the sauces and, naturellement, making them expertly too. But for the gourmet, a mere knowledge of the different sauces is hardly enough. He must roll the flavorful mixture over his tongue, savoring all the nuances or developing a high gastronomic fever when perfection is missed. Otherwise half the pleasure of eating a sauce is lost. And for those who love to cook, the putting together of combinations that make really fine sauces—the mixing and blending for flavor, the stirring and cooking for texture—is one of life's great satisfactions. Without good sauce cookery, too many foods would reach the table sans goût—or as pretty dull dishes.
Since they are so important, how then does one acquire this priceless skill of making fine sauces? Well, if you were starting your training as a chef—faire votre apprentissage—and it was this time of the year when a cold dish or two is included in almost every meal served, you might begin in the cold sauce department. A practical start for anyone, for that matter. Even though the cold sauces in general are quite simple, you develop a sense of taste and discretion with seasonings. And you won't be discouraged by failures because they will be few. As a matter of fact, once you master mayonnaise you'll find you have the cold entree sauces under control, and when you can make a smooth, satiny soft custard you have the dessert ones well in hand. These are the two kinds that include eggs to achieve the desired texture and so can't be tossed together so casually as the vinaigrette variations, for example, or the fruit sauces, that depend for success on an agreeable combination of flavors.
When I write about cold sauces, my mind immediately spins back over the years like a machine in reverse stopping at all the purple-velvet festivities for which I've planned and set up cold buffets. I know so well that unless the many savory sauces we used had not been developed through the years, the whole idea of the cold buffet and cold entrees within hot meals would never have become so popular. Time passes so quickly that I can hardly believe it is more than forty years ago that I was in Paris as a young chef learning to prepare and arrange foods for functions for the haut monde that were the talk not only of Paris but of the world. I doubt whether anyone today would believe the time and care which went into making and decorating every dish served. Time, of course, meant nothing in those days, and the fact that a food would be on display for several hours was reason enough to spend as many hours in merely its decoration. Chefs worked twelve or more hours a day and an apprenti much longer. Time and money then seemed far less important than pride in workmanship.
I particularly remember those warm spring days in May and June, “the season” in Paris. Society arrived from all over the world to enjoy the city at its loveliest and the thrill of the racing at Longchamps. When the Grand Prix was run off during the last week in June, “the season” ended, but until then fine living was at its peak. And fine food was hardly the least of the extravagances that beautifully gowned women and their meticulously groomed escorts came to enjoy. What woman in those days thought of dieting? What man wanted to put his arm around a pencil-thin figure? Madame did not shy away from a good truite saumonée sauced with a rich mayonnaise. Mais non! She enjoyed every mouthful and all the other tempting cold entrees, too, especially after a day in the hot sunshine watching the races. Those who liked open-air dining would seek out a favorite restaurant in the Bois de Boulogne or perhaps visit the Ambassadeur on the tree-lined Champs Elysées. Others preferred the smartness of the Ritz or the big restaurants in the center of the city. To many a person it was worth a trip halfway across Europe to eat once a year, of a spring evening, in Monsieur Leopold Mourrier's Pavillon d'Armenonville or his equally popular Café de Paris with its famous picture-backed menus.
Pinterest
